A QUEER DAY FOR YARD SALES

Man, it was cold at six this morning. And overcast. I could smell rain, but the clouds held their water. Must have been young clouds-if clouds are anything like men-because this old man can’t hold it that long.

Spike and I usually don't travel too far from home, but this morning we decided to ride into J‘ville. According to the classified ad, someone had a huge selection of books for sale. The misguided young woman holding the sale had four boxes of books. Four. To me, huge conjurors up a lawn covered in stuff, but I still managed to pick up five or six titles. Spike handled the haggling. Price should have been $7.00. She added wrong and came up with $4.00. Spike gave her a Jackson. When she made change, she handed Spike $18.00, cheating herself out of another $2.00. Spike didn't catch the mistake. He claims he didn’t, but you never know with Spike. An hour and a half later, I realized the woman gave too much change. I wanted to go back, but now I'm now forty miles from her house and it would have cost me $12.00 in gas to give her the $2.00 back, so we kept going…..


At the next sale, I bought an 1892 volume of poems by Wordsworth. What a perfect name for a poet. Knowing the worth of a word, they use them sparingly. I also picked up an old pharmacy bottle from Savannah, and a small stack of vintage catalogs. My total should have been $5.50. I give the owner two quarters and a five. She gives me one dollar and fifty cents change. Didn't realize mistake till after I left.

We headed east looking for more treasure. Blackbeard use to roam this area, and Spike likes to think of us as swashbuckling pirates, so it is only fitting we sail from yard to yard looking for plunder. Spike also wanted to look for a little Captain Morgan since it was so chilly, just enough to warm his old bones, he said. I told him it was too damn early, and besides, I was driving. Sometimes Spike doesn’t think things through. What he does affects me. For those who don’t know Spike, he’s my brain tumor.

At the next sale, I bought 10 coasters at a quarter each. The woman couldn't total my purchase. She counted them out, one at a time, saying, .25, .50, .75, $1.00, until she counted all ten coasters. I think she is a retired professor.

I almost didn't make the next stop. I’ve been in the area before and it’s not a great place to find good stuff. There was only one other shopper rummaging. I spotted an old bible. It was a thing of beauty. Hand-tooled. Leather bound. 8“-10" thick. Beautiful, full page color illustrations. Attractive endpapers. Immaculate condition. I asked what she wanted. $10.00. I pulled my wallet out so fast smoke rolled up off my butt. The jerk shopping tells her, "I wouldn't sell that for $10.00. You should research it on the internet. Probably worth hundreds!" Lady changes her mind and decides to keep it. I thought Spike was going to kill the guy and I didn’t want to go to jail as an accessory, so I wrestled him into the truck and we peeled out of there. I hit a pothole on the way out and messed up my front end alignment.

Signage was a problem this morning. We wasted an hour, tricked by posters advertising puppies for sale, wedding receptions, family reunions, and charity car washes. In my neck of the woods, once you’ve committed your turn signal, and have slowed down, you have to make the turn or risk going visiting the proctologist so he can get a 57 Chevy pulled out of your ass. Spike and I followed one sign to a church. The parking lot was full. We went in, expecting an indoor, fund-raising yard sale, only to find a wedding in progress. Spike ended up giving the bride away.

I did pick up thirteen pieces of Clarice Cliff dinnerware. I didn’t know the pattern, but the fine ladies at The Yardsale Queen's site told me the pattern is Rhodanthe.


Looks like Spike and I found some treasure after all.